


Romance in the Snow

by nebulaethereal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: dramionedrabble, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Requited Love, Romance, Sex, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulaethereal/pseuds/nebulaethereal
Summary: After becoming friends, Hermione and Draco are enjoying Christmas at lone at Hogwarts.(Tooth-rotting fluff turns into something quite naughty in chapter two.)





	1. Chocolate cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After becoming friends, Hermione and Draco are enjoying Christmas alone at Hogwarts.
> 
> (Tooth-rotting fluff turns into something quite naughty in chapter two.)

They had only recently mended fences and begun talking. They were getting along brilliantly-- too brilliantly, perhaps.

Hermione was enjoying her eighth year at Hogwarts, while he was trudging through the formalities of it all. Everyone either wished they didn't have to do the year over, or, like her, wished that they could do twenty more years! 

At some point, between bumping into classes, being partnered during Slugworth's lab, a spark had ignited. They were both reluctant to admit this, though. 

Since then, glances held a bit more weight, laughs were even flirtatious, at times. The question on everyone's mind was, when would they let their guard down? 

It would happen on a snowy afternoon. 

Hogwarts was glistening with icicles and snowflakes. Hermione admired the facade from outside, laying out on a bench. Her form created a haphazard snow-angel on the wood. Next to her lay a thermos of hot chocolate spiked with a smidgen of coffee. In her hand was a book, propped open while she perused the text. 

She had to admit, daydreaming came a bit more naturally these days.

Her daydream was shattered by the feeling of a snowball smacking the book from her hand. 

"Bloody-- Oh no!" She shouted.

She let out a yelp and scrambled for the book, only to knock her thermos over and out onto the snow. The white stuff melted, succumbing to the heat of the chocolatey delight she had conjured. So much wasted. 

Once she had managed to collect her book and now-empty thermos, she stood up, looking for the perpetrator.

Nobody was seen.

"Who's out there?! Show yourself! You... You cowardly arsehole!" She huffed, her scarf slackened about her form and nearly touched the snow.

From the treeline he hid, just barely able to peek at her distraught form stomping the ground.

He may be on good terms with the witch, since she was kind enough to put unsavory history behind them, but he still needed to have his fun with her. 

Sure, he might enjoy the way she grew red in the cheeks with frustration, or pursed her lips stoically in protest. In the cold air, those lips were a bit redder than usual. Her eyes, a furious chocolate brown, darted around to find him. He was having none of that.

"Come on, then!" She shouted, dusting snow from her book and screwing the lid back onto her thermos. 

He was busy admiring her casual outfit, muggle leggings, snow boots, and a long, baggy that her father had sent her upon request. He was so busy, in fact, that he didn't hear her say "Homenum Revelio." He had been caught.

He knew it was over when she began to mutter an incarcerous spell, but he cut her off.

"Alright, alright... I'll come out with my hands up." He slowly revealed himself, since her wand was already pointed his direction. 

She scoffed, quickly dropping her wand and shaking her head at him in disbelief. 

"What the hell, Draco... Are you intent on ruining my quiet holiday afternoon?" She crossed her arms, and began to turn to go inside before he could defend himself.

"Oh, come on. It was funny! I will say I didn't expect you to blunder and spill your cocoa, though. That was a plus," he teased, quickly running up to walk with her. He made sure to stay out of arm's reach, though.

"You... Ugh-- why couldn't you have just gone home for the Christmas holiday?" She huffed, while checking the pages of her book now for tears, bends, or water damage. He shook his head smartly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

"Oh, well you know... I think I'm keen on at least one year away from the Manor. You know, I could ask you the same thing, Hermione." They made it to the arched outdoor garden leading toward the classrooms.

"I already told you, Malfoy," she said his surname with a bit of venom, "I wanted to have some time alone. My parents understood, they gave me their blessing. I have nothing to feel guilty about!"

She felt so guilty.

She was stopping at the door of the kitchen, peering her head in stealthily. He peered in behind her in a rather comical way. "What are we looking for." 

Somehow startled, she gasped, smacking him in the chest before entering the kitchen. Although there weren't many options for food for people staying behind during the holidays, there was plenty of cocoa and coffee. 

She made a bee-line, ignoring him talking behind her.

"Shouldn't we ask for permission? I wouldn't want either of us losing housepoints, you know. I'm ever so afraid of what might become of us if we're caught at this hour..." He feigned concern in such a way that it was both infuriating and comedic. 

She was laughing when she finished up refilling her thermos. She turned to him, smirking.

"Are you quite finished?" She glared darkly, betrayed by her smirk.

"Almost, one more thing," he bright his fingertips to his teeth and pretended to gnaw them out of worry.

"Alright, you two... get out of here..." a voice spoke, startling Draco enough to spin around with a noticeable start.

This elicited quite the laugh from Hermione. 

"Afternoon, Chef Guarnaschelli. I just need to top my cocoa off since SOMEONE spilled it..." she glared at Draco.

Draco feigned guilt. 

"Oh, I didn't know it was you, honey. Help yourself. Oh! Actually, I was wondering if you and your... friend here... might want this half of a cake left over?" The Italian woman walked toward a counter just beyond the fridge, and retrieved a decorative box.

"It was left over from one of the cook's birthday yesterday." She handed it over, implying that she would not take 'no' for an answer.

"OH! Thank you! I'd love that." Hermione attempted to peek into the box, to no avail. She was shoo'ed out of the kitchen soon after that, along with Draco.

In the hallway, the chef waved them off, and they started walking again.

"So... where should we eat that cake?" He asked, peering over at her in curiousity. "You don't think it's chocolate do you... I do love a chocolate cake," he nearly whispered.

She stopped, and turned to him sassily. "You-- you don't think that I'm going to give YOU any, do you?" She began to cling the cake to her chest covetously. 

"Oh... well Chef said that--" he began innocently.

"'Oh well Chef said', that doesn't mean I have to share with YOU!" She mocked him, although barely able to hide a smirk. 

"But you couldn't possibly put that entire cake away! You're so tiny! It's the size of your head-- just let me have half." His hands came together over his chest in a prayer motion.

"Hmmm... I suppose you're right. And it'd be wrong to waste it." She pondered, looking off to the side in thought.

"Let's go to your commonroom." She finally suggested. Before he could protest, she turned around. "It's not as if I'm getting crumbs all over Gryffindor." She snarked, and they were off. 

It was short work to make it to the Slytherin commonroom, and it was rather comical how quickly he spat out the password to enter. 

Only moments ago she revealed that the cake certainly SMELLED chocolatey.

After fumbling into the commonroom like a nervous teen, he sat down. Then he got back up, rushing into the kitchen. He returned with a fork and sat back down.

He eyed the package in her arms greedily.

She set it down on the pitch black coffee table before them. Her eyes were elsewhere, taking in the dark greens and blacks of the commonroom. 

"It's... nicer than I expected." She began, while tugging off her scarf and coat.

He was too busy cracking open the cake to notice that she was taking off her large sweater too, revealing a form-fitting green thermal shirt. 

He was also too busy drooling over the German chocolate cake to see her begin wandering around the common room and out of sight.

He daintily scraped a few shaved chocolate flakes from the top of the cake and let them melt in his mouth. There was a noticeable shiver overcoming him.

From there, he began to carefully carve out a small sliver from top to bottom, and hovered his hand beneath the fork as it travelled to his mouth. 

"Mmmmm..., Aren't you going to eat any?" He asked to nobody. 

He looked around, chewing. He hadn't imagined her, had he? The cake was real enough-- so where had she gone? 

His eyes went wide as he turned to notice his doorway, just down the hall, opened.

He nearly leapt over the back of the couch, fork clattering to the floor, to investigate.

Upon arriving at his room, he saw nobody. He crept deeper into the room, looking left and right-- trying to find where she was hiding. He crept to the closet, grinning. Slowly, his nimble fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and he could practically hear her giggling.

He jerked the door open, seeing nothing but clothes and shoes.

"What ARE you doing?" She asked from the hallway, peering into the room for the first time. Her sleeves were rolled up as she dried her hands on a cloth. 

"Nothing. Where did you go?" He questioned, squinting at her slightly as he casually shut his closet door.

"I was washing my hands..." She stepped into his room, wondering what was so interesting in there. She looked at the neatness and took note. She noticed the freshly-made bed, his slippers next to it, and his silk robe draped along the foot. His desk is what caught her eye the most.

She made her way over to the bookcase just next to it, eyes meandering over titles until she inspected the books on his desk.

"Well, we should get back to that cake, Hermione. It's SO good, I can't even explain it." He began daydreaming over it once again, smiling.

Then he noticed her investigating a letter sent from Blaise, stretched out on his desk for all the world to see. 

Before he had managed to cross the room to distract her view, nearly sitting on the desk in front of her, she had managed to make out " _why not just challenge the witch to a game of Truth or Dare, I'm sure you--."_

She was startled by him sliding to block her view.

"What's that, then?" She asked, peering over his shoulder in vain.

"What's what, then?" He questioned, slowly stretching over the desk, as if it were all quite casual at thing to do. As he did, his ribbed turtleneck raised over his lower abdomen, revealing a bit of white skin to the dark room. 

"I couldn't read any of it, if that's what you're worried about," she crossed her arms, her lie far too apparent as she avoided eye contact.

"Oh, we both know you're an awful liar, I know you read it." He challenged, pointing a finger at her.

"Then who is Zabini suggesting you play Truth or Dare with?" She retorted, head tilted, volleying the challenge.

"I-eh... It's stupid, he's just keen on playing match-maker with me." Draco turned to face the desk, tucking all embarrassing things away and out of sight.

It was apparent that Draco wanted to drop it, and she acquiesed-- for now.

"Now, you MUST try this cake." He left the room, but waited for her, gentlemanly in a way. 

Just as she was out of the door, he shut his door tightly, if possible.

They were back on the couch, enjoying the cake in silence.

As if the triple-chocolate German cake weren't enough, they both decided to wash it all down with some of her hot chocolate.

Any tension that had risen in the air was falling by the way-side, as the chocolate filled them with cheer. 

As the sun set, the fireplace turned on just behind her. She was knelt on the floor hovering over the half-demolished cake. 

As the flames illuminated the room, they both looked around, noticing the windows were caked with snow by now save for small ovals revealing the world outside.

"So..." Hermione toyed with a bit of cake, debating eating some more. "Why is it that Zabini is 'keen' on getting you a girlfriend?" She began tearing away a bit of icing, licking that off of her fork.

Finally content with a belly full of cake, Draco had joined her on the floor, across the table and leaning back on the couch. His eyes were full, too. 

His view was the back-lit silhouette of the witch seated in front of him. His appetite may have been satiated in terms of food, but the manner in which she was licking the icing off of her fork was proving a quality apartif. 

She noticed his expression darken slightly, and tilted her head, "Draco? Did you hear me?" 

He shot his eyes from her mouth to her eyes, and to the window. He stretched casually once more.

"Ahh, no, what was that? Oh, Zabini? Well, he knows how picky I am, and I just... I don't know. He knows I have my eye on a specific witch, but..." 

Her eyes grew rounder in wonder, "Oh? But?" She was still licking that bloody fork.

"But... I haven't what is it-- courage? I haven't the courage to see if she has eyes for me, as well." He nodded, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

His pulse throbbed in his neck and ears. The crackle of the fire was unheard to him, since he was apparently deaf from blood-flow. He nearly worried for stroke. Is that what muggles called it? Could Hermione save him from a coronary infarction? He swallowed finally--breathed finally.

"Who is it?" She asked plainly, resting her elbows on the table. She looked deeply into his face. "I bet... it's... Jeannie.." She nodded, tapping her fingertip to her lip.

"Who?" He quirked a brow.

"You know, that girl that's always fawning over you from the stands at Quidditch matches? Blonde hair?" She made a motion, as if he would understand.

"Heh, no. Guess again," he teased, reaching for a sip of cocoa.

"Hmm, perhaps... Is it Ladrissa?" She shot upright slightly from her knelt position. 

"Umh... No. She's gay." He supplied, tension coiling within him.

"Oh, well I suppose she is..." Hermione trailed off in wonder, "makes so much sense, now..." She muttered.

"It's you." He uttered, his voice warbling slightly, quite unattractively.

"... Ginny had told me, but, well, I didn't believe it. But I suppose there's no real 'look', is there. No... That's homophobic to think... Sexist even, maybe..." She was doing that thing again, tapping her lips.

"I said it's you," He leaned forward, courage leaving him as he reached for the nearest source of comfort. Cake.

"What?" She asked after many long moments of silence and staring his way.

He had already given up on his admission, burying himself in cake. It had been literal minutes since his second attempt. He just assumed that she was off in her own world-- never to know.

He looked up at her, crumbs falling from his fork. He seemed to think remaining still would reverse time.

"It's me?" She seemed to reposition herself on the rug, as if assessing herself in a new light.

He noticed this, and chuckled the tiniest chuckle. "Yea." He admitted.

"Well--wow. I guess... It makes sense, I suppose." She nodded quite matter-of-factly. Now, though, her eyes were on her fork as she inspected the make and model from her lap.

He hadn't the heart to break her silence, but had lost his appetite. 

The cat was out of the bag. Worms out of the can. Guts all over the floor. 

In an attempt to breathe, he straightened his back, looking to the watch on his wrist. He made to speak, but coughed instead. He could have sworn that she was about to say something. He had to hear what she had to say.

Instead, she merely looked up at him innocently and went 'hm'?

His face screwed up in a way she'd only seen when he was younger. She braced herself for impact.

"'Hm?'... 'HM??!' That's all you have to say after I basically admit that I've fallen for you?!?"

He was shouting now, but his voice revealed that he wasn't angry so much as hurt. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth followed suit. She attempted to defend herself, but he interrupted.

"You--You just... sit there... Eating cake and going on about lesbians... And I'm over here, spilling my heart out to the most insufferable witch of her age!" He was standing now, pacing a small distance.

She remained on her knees, watching him in shock from the other side of the table.

"And you have the NERVE to just... be silent. You, the most out-spoken, noisy, loud-mouthed WITCH in this entire sch--" Something happened.

In the span of seconds, he was halted by a keen spell on Hermione's part--this was followed up by her coming to stand on the short table, grip him by the collar, and slap him.

Winded, he was looking up at him now-- the spell fading. His stunned face was tilted up to take her in. 

"I know I couldn't make you want me," he whispered up toward her. He watched her eyes as they studied his face.

"You can't make me do anything..." She insisted, before closing the gap between them. Their noses brushed clumsily before finding a comfortable nook on either side. Her chocolately lips captured his briefly, almost chastely, before pulling away enough for an inch to come between them.

He opened his eyes up toward her, gulping, and nearly swooning at her proximity. The position was oddly reminiscent of years ago, when she punched him.

She certainly had the upper hand again, and he was at a loss for words.

"Well. Now that you've calmed down... Shall we?" She carefully stepped down from the table to stand right in front of him, now nearly a foot shorter-- looking up at him instead.

It had an awfully enticing effect on him.

"Shall we what...?" He asked, hoarse. 

"Play Truth or Dare, of course." She chuckled, as if it were the most obvious answer. 


	2. Truth or Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Issa smut

After breaking the news that she was intent on playing Truth or Dare, with him of all people, he just stood there.

She moved to sit in the nearby armchair, just next to the couch. Her legs crossed, and she sat primly, holding her knee slightly.

“Well? Have a seat.” She motioned, tucking some hair behind her ear.

He watched her skeptically, slowly sitting down and resting his hands flat on either side of his hips. “O..kay…” He felt like this was a trap.

“This isn’t a trap.” She clarified, as if reading his mind.

“Okay, then, what is this? You’re telling me that you WANT to play Truth or Dare?” His eyebrows raised.

“Well, I already said, you can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do. So… Truth or Dare?” She asked.

“Are you, asking me or…?” He squinted, his leg tapping some.

“I’m asking, of course. Truth… or dare?” She repeated slower this time.

“Truth,” he spat, too nervous to find out what kind of devious dares she was planning.

“Okay, how long have you ‘had eyes’ for me?” She smirked, leaning back into her chair some, bare foot resting on the table.

“Nevermind, I want dare.” He insisted. He just saw her shake her head with finality.

“Ugh, fine… Since you stood up for me at the Wizengamot.” He didn’t elaborate.

“Oh…” She frowned a little, but shrugged. “Okay… your turn.”

“Truth or dare?” He knew exactly what to ask…

“Dare,” damned bloody witch.

“Okay, well,” his eyes searched the room, as if looking for something for her to lick, like he’d dare his mates back in the old days.

His eyes landed back on her. “I dare you to…” he brought his thumb to his bottom lip, worrying it.

“Get on with it, Draco,” She chuckled.

“Kiss me again.” He felt that he deserved redemption, since he was caught offgaurd by her kiss before. He wasn’t in top form, after all.

She chuckled and blushed, standing up and coming to sit next to him. He turned to face her a bit more, as she leaned in, eyes fluttering shut, and pressed her lips to his.

The rather lust-less kiss was turned on its head when he slipped his hand to rest on her cheek, sliding into her hairline. He leaned into the kiss, deepening it.

His lips parted, pulling hers with them. His tongue darted along her seemingly hesitant tongue.

In deepening the kiss, she let out a quite audible moan, and suddenly jerked from the kiss bashfully, pressing a hand to her reddened lips. “Ehm.. Well there you are.” She avoided his eye, smiling rather vividly.

“There we are…” His smirk grew over his features as his hand dropped from her face to his lap. He turned to face her more now, since she made no move to return to her chair. “Your turn, Hermione.”

The way he said her name was… different. She glanced at his face bravely.

His eyes were stormy grey, boring into her own. Breathless, she asked: “truth or dar—”

“Dare,” he dared.

“I—um, I dare you to—” She was looking at him still, her smirk mirroring his own. They seemed to be playing footsie, but with their eyes.

“—Kiss me?” She nearly whispered.

Before she could brace herself he dove at her, hands cupping either side of her jawline and tilting her up into a deep, slow kiss. He seemed to be searching, trying different angles, different techniques. The deeper and slower he went, the closer he got to his prize.

He finally dragged his tongue along her bottom lip and she moaned into the kiss.

This time he broke the kiss, and held her face, staring down at her hungrily, grinning almost maniacally.

Her face blushed wildly, lips parted still as she stared up at him.

He could have taken her then and there, but the speed of things was setting an unprecedented pace, and he reluctantly settled down. “Your turn,” he licked his lips, returning to his own space.

“Truth… ehm, or dare?” She adjusted her shirt, seeming a bit too warm for the thermal indoors.

“Hmm, truth…” He asked, wondering what she was thinking.

“Okay, well—” she tried to think of something good. “—Am I a good kisser?” She asked.

He was hesitant. His tongue toyed with one of his canines in thought. “Almost…” He answered.

She looked a little hurt, staring him in the face. Her arms crossed over her chest. “What does that mean?”

“You just seem… uptight.” He teased, grinning.

“Excuse me?!” She nearly gasped.

“Why are you so afraid to moan for me?” He whispered huskily.

She was gulping now, adjusting in her seat a bit and looking at her cuticles. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He nodded. “Okay then… Whatever you say. Truth or Dare?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Truth,” she said defiantly, not giving him another chance at a kiss.

“Will you let me make you moan again tonight?” He asked in a sultry tone.

She still refused to make eye contact. “Nope.” She insisted. “Truth or Dare?” She quickly asked, looking around as if she had plenty of better things to do.

“Dare,” he spoke, enjoying the long con.

“I dare you to… smash your face into the rest of the cake.” She pointed at the remains of icing and sponge.

“But… there’s still some worth eating.” He protested genuinely.

“A dare’s a dare…” She nodded curtly.

With a sigh, he slowly leaned forward over the cake, and pressed his face into it. It smeared along his hair and shirt and ears, ruining his suave look.

He recoiled, showing her his caked and chocolatey visage. “Happy?” He asked, licking up the mess from his lips and fingers, not wanting to waste.

Through giggles, she nodded, “quite!”

He shook his head, muttering a bit and leaving for the kitchen to wash up.

Upon returning, he was cleaned up and shirtless.

Curse him… he knew damn-well there were spells that could clean a shirt.

Now she was left staring at his pale, toned chest for the remainder of the game. She grumbled as he sat down.

“Ah, okay. Truth or Dare?” He was towel-drying his hair, now wet and free of icing.

“Hmh… dare.” She said absent-mindedly, peering him over while a towel was blocking his view.

“Ah, okay. I dare you to let me make you moan.” He shot, as if he had this idea all along.

“Wh-what? That’s not a dare.” She scoffed. They met eyes.

“Isn’t it?” He smirked, looking her over.

“Well… I guess, technically it is, but,” she was interrupted.

“I won’t do anything you don’t approve of… Hell, you can tell me what to do.” He offered.

“I guess that’s… fair.” She side-eyed him, suspicious. It was really a double-edged sword. If she moaned at the first touch, he won. If she resisted it, then it would go on forever, and he would win.

This was a game, and she was quite keen on winning games. No matter the sexual nature that this game had adopted, which she was enjoying, she couldn’t let him win.

“Fine,” she finally spoke, holding out her hand.

He grasped it, confused. “What am I to do with this?” He asked.

“Well, go on. Make me moan.” She insisted, her arm in his grasp akin to a wet noodle.

He caught on to her defiance and smirked. With her gaze off to the side, possibly eying the fire, she was caught offgaurd by the feeling of his lips on her wrist.

How anyone could make a kiss on the wrist feel erotic, she didn’t know. She could only peer at him momentarily, before looking away.

“How quaint,” she feigned a yawn.

This, oddly, drove him wild. He took this as permission to trail kisses up, from her wrist to the crook of her elbow.

She giggled, bending there slightly.

He smirked, coming to turn her forearm in his grasp and work back down to her hand and fingers, kissing gingerly.

She found herself growing tired of this, and pulled her hand back.

“No, that won’t do.” She thought a moment, then nodded and waggled her finger for him to come closer as she pointed to her cheek. “Here, now.”

She was intentionally choosing chaste areas. He smirked at the challenge.

He leaned forward, and instead of a kiss, dragged his tongue along her cheek slowly. She giggled once more, pulling away.

“Oh, gross, Draco!” She laughed, wiping the spit from her cheek. With him so close again, she reflexively bit into her bottom lip.

“Try again.” She ordered, granting him her cheek.

He chuckled, nodding and coming to kiss her cheek, just near her ear. He noticed her grow silent from the affection.

Testing the water, he trailed another kiss closer to her ear, and another beneath her ear.

He felt her growing tense, and eyed her.

It was clear that she was still resisting his ministrations. Her fingernails were digging into her leggings.

One hand came to cradle her chin, with a little nod from her, and he tilted her head to grant him more access to her neck.

Surely, she would moan from a kiss to the neck.

He planted one there, and another. Nothing. To test something, he dragged his tongue along her throat slowly, hitting her jawline. She was utterly silent as a visible tremor travelled along her body.

He grew cocky, and began to hungrily lick and kiss her neck. She was silent, all while her jaw dropped, emitting silent screams of pleasure.

One of her hands came to the back of his head, holding him there.

A tiny squeak.

He suddenly stopped and looked at her face, grinning wildly.

“Th-that wasn’t a moan!” She insists, face beet red and breathing ragged.

He was nearly ontop of her by now, hovering over her on the arm of the couch.

“Oh… okay.” He smirked, looking at her knowingly. She nodded.

“Well, back to work then?” He asked, to which she nodded again.

This time his hands came to either side of her head, ultimately pinning her back against the arm rest. His face hovered over hers, and she was nearly trembling beneath him. He inhaled the sweet musk of the air form their heated necking.

He was teasing, swaying his head, trying to choose his next place to strike, as if a snake.

That’s when he decided to surprise her with a gentle kiss to the forehead. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, planting a soft kiss to her lips very briefly.

She watched him helplessly, one of his hands coming to rest on her hip softly- nearly hovering. He eyed her for a reaction.

She nodded, and before he could tease out the moment longer, she suddenly grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it off of herself. It wasn’t the most graceful, and she nearly punched him in the face in the process. But it was off, and gone, and her nipples were stones beneath the thin cotton bra.

He was genuinely stunned, leaning back a bit to avoid her arms, only to be granted sight to her in such a position. “Bloody hell, Hermione… I would have been fine with some under-the-shirt action…” He was taking her in, adoring the curve of her waist and the full swell of her bra. The hint of color of her nipples was driving his curiousity mad. Apparently, though, she was talking.

“—didn’t know! Oh, Merlin, I’m an idiot, I’ve ruined the mood.” She nearly conked herself on the forehead, but was cut off when Draco grasped her wrists, pinned them over her head, and crashed their lips and hips together in a single motion.

His reward was a gasp, coupled with a moan that rattled her throat. Her chest arched upward, pressing into his bare skin and sending a wave of emotion rushing through him. He pressed her down into the couch, hungrily devouring her with kisses. His tongue was wild, coaxing her own out for a bit of play.

Once he decided they needed to catch their breaths, he broke the kiss, looking down at her lustfully, gripping her arms gently still. She looked heated, blushed, and… embarassed. “Aw.. no!” She suddenly spouted.

His eyes went wide, worry covering his features as he removed his grip on her arms. “What?”

“I moaned…” She pouted.

He couldn’t help but laugh, planting another kiss on the corner of her lips in a sensual way.

“Would you like me to make you moan again…?” He offered rather sweetly.

She nodded, eyes shutting as she waited for another deep kiss.

Instead, the kisses were travelling down her neck, toward her chest.

He could feel her breathing grow more shallow the lower he got.

He rested his chin on her stomach while teasing his thumbs along the underswell of her breasts. He eyed her expression. She was peering down at him, nodding longingly.

He inched his large hands achingly slow up over her breasts. He didn’t grab, or squeeze, he merely teased the skin and fabric there with his palm. Then, with his fingertips. At one point, his manicured nails dragged along the fabric, and over her stiff nipples.

Then he moaned once more, but brought her hand to her teeth to stifle them--- remembering their game.

He tutted at her, pointing and waggling the finger. “Bad girl…” He teased.

This didn’t stop his efforts, though.

He dragged his fingernails along her sides, as he slid down to grip the waistline of her leggings.

“Ughhh, yes,” She groaned, lifting her hips to allow him to remove them.

To her surprise, her bare bottom rested on the cushion, as he made sure to grip her nickers with the leggings as well.

The reality of her nakedness was overwhelming, and she gnawed on her bottom lip.

“Let me make you moan, Hermione…?” He cooed, dragging his fingernails gently along the outer sides of her hips and thighs. Her legs almost too tightly shut.

The heat of the moment was overcoming her nerves, and she nodded, licking her lips.

Her legs relaxed, and he took this as his cue. He lay on his stomach, her legs only slightly parted beneath him. He didn’t force them to move at all, and merely planted a kiss along her trimmed mound.

She couldn’t stand looking at the lewd scene, and tossed her head back.

Her legs spread slightly more, granting him enough access to plant a kiss along the apex of her slit. His hands on her stomach, he could feel her breathing hitch in reaction.

He used his chin as a kind of cleaver, burrowing a bit deeper. Her legs spread in compliance, hips adjusting in such a way that granted an obscene view to him.

He pulled away slightly, taking in the sight of the witch’s mound, trimmed and groomed far more than he would expect, considering her head of hair.

He huffed hot breath over her lips, before following that up with a cool blow. He could swear, steam lifted from her pinkened slit.

His next move was to kiss her slit, right about the center, and then again, at the top. The second kiss granted him another small moan from Hermione. He grinned, noticing how her hips arched toward his face.

As her legs finally spread in a manner that suggested she was tired of the teasing, he slipped the tip of his tongue between her folds.

At first, it was a game of searching for her most pleasant spots.

He found them to be just above her clit, just to the right of her clit, and along the sides. Once he had figured this out, he decided to avoid them altogether, and gently encapsulated her clitoris between his soft lips.

The overstimulation caught her offgaurd for a moment, and she gasped sharply. But as he took the time to slowly drag circles around her nub in slowly larger passes, he felt her hips arching upward in rhythm.

Confidently, he pressed on, and after he removed his lips, he spread her lips with one hand, pin-pointing her clitoris in a way that made her moan deeply. Every moment that he pulled back, she almost whimpered. He took this as a sign and began to ravage the bright pink button.

Her moans were coming more frequently as he lapped along that spot. He could feel her arousal along his chin by now, his own erection pressing painfully into the cushion beneath him.

Taking him by surprise, she gripped his hair, and pressed his face firmly to her groin. She was gasping out, climaxing while grinding into his face.

Bashfully, she let go once her orgasm had begun to ebb.

He adored the look on her face once he came up for air. He used the nearby towel to wipe his face, eliciting an embarrassed groan from her. She almost covered her face.

“Mm, cmere…” He groaned, unbuckling his pants and shedding them along with his underwear.

He leaned back on the other arm of the couch, and she obeyed him, crawling over his form and planting a kiss to his lips. “I suppose you win…” She whispered, straddling his thighs.

“Mm, not yet.” He grasped her jawline, kissing her in a slow, longing manner. She swoon, and ground her wet mound into his exposed shaft. He gasped out sharply, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, Hermione. I need this—I need you.” He pleaded.

She nodded, and rested her small hands on his broad shoulders, attempting to position herself properly.

He assisted, gripping his straining cock beneath her and groaning out at the feeling of her meeting his tip. She sank down slower than he expected, making him grab her hips in a fit of pleasure.

“Shit, that feels good!” He whined huskily.

She was contorting her face in an odd way, making him worry. But then she said, “Fuck, you’re big,” she chuckled.

He couldn’t stand the ego-stroking, too! He slowly, firmly, pulled her down to take the entire length of his engorged cock.

They both gasped—but not as much as they were going to as he began to pump and piston into her from beneath.

Her fingernails were digging into his shoulders in a lovely way—her moans filling the Slytherin commonroom.

The build had gotten the best of him, and he couldn’t hold off any longer. His teeth grit and his eyes shut, as he finished, buried deep in her clenching core.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After they cleaned up, and after a good cuddle, Draco went for a shower.

“Okay, I’ll join you. I’ll be right back, though.” She ran off giddily.

He had been pondering for a solid ten minutes, how did he get so lucky? How had this all worked out so well? What had he done to deserve the beautiful Hermione Granger…

He heard the bathroom door open, and continued soaping up his lithe form. “Back so soon?” He asked, grinning.

That’s when she jerked the curtain open, and threw a snowball square in his face.

She really was the most insufferable witch of her time.


End file.
